


divulgence

by pipecleanerFlowers



Series: The (Not-So) Secret Life of Barian Nerds [5]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2018-03-04 03:04:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2906933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipecleanerFlowers/pseuds/pipecleanerFlowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes even Vector just needs to talk to someone. It's times like those that let Durbe tolerate him the rest of the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	divulgence

Durbe feels a tug on his shirt and the next moment he's being dragged outside into the cool night that's spread itself over Heartland. Vector is staring at him tiredly, but his eyes carry this suppressed fiery rage that makes the gaze look eerily focused and Durbe knows that he should pay attention to what he says next.

It takes a while for Durbe to hear anything other than shallow breathes, but when Vector speaks it's dangerous and low and frustrated and he's rambling because he's no good with words and emotions are infinitely harder to express because there are too many adjectives that don't fit the feeling properly so he uses too many and it feels forced and pumped full of adverbs because it's kinda this but not really. Durbe nods and hums in agreement and at some point they find themselves sitting side by side, backs against the dulled red brick of the alley walls. His hand reaches out for Vector's, which is trembling in his lap with pent-up vexation, memories of adrenaline.

 _It's PTSD_ , Durbe muses as Vector switches gears from Sargasso to what happened in what he's sure is his past life. Durbe can attest to that since he still has vivid images of him as a knight from the temple he visited. Except Vector's clutching Durbe's arm now with wide eyes, trying to force out more words that he can't find because  _there was stabbing, I think I stabbed myself, I think I_  killed  _myself, Durbe_. Desperation laces his voice, so different from usual, and it throws Durbe off-guard.

 _Even he..._  but Durbe can't finish that thought because Vector's always been alone and he's always liked it that way and that's why everyone stays out of his way so  _why does he need me right now?_  As soon as Durbe asks himself that, he realizes how stupid that sounds because everyone needs someone, that's just logical.

Vector's eyes are bloodshot now and he's running shaky fingers through his hair and it looks like a birds nest at this point, but neither care. Durbe smooths it out and gathers his hands within his own and helps him stand up because they've been out in the alley for hours and it's gotten colder and they need to sleep and  _all you need is some sleep, that always helps_.

When he's back in his room and Durbe has made sure that he's stopped trembling so much, he leaves and breathes a sigh and decides that he should stop thinking so badly about Vector. After all, it seems more and more as their hunt goes on that they're all just lost souls.

Vector's just another one.


End file.
